


and we were dancing on the edge

by writingwords



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, At the same time, But also, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28195353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwords/pseuds/writingwords
Summary: “Oh no. If you’re dancing, you’re gonna be good at it. It ain’t that hard.”“It ain’t?”“No, I’ll show you, but we’re using my playlist.” Ben asserts, closing the office door.Or a one-shot of the boys dancing that absolutely nobody asked for
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Whitney Dean/Callum "Halfway" Highway
Comments: 19
Kudos: 59





	and we were dancing on the edge

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from a song called [Emerald Eyes - Anson Seabra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Z4gKL2XAfQ)  
> Other songs used in the fic: [Smile - Nat King Cole ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAjx0d-fda4)  
> [ Moon River - Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffany's ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=875eB2tU2TU)  
> [ A kiss to build a dream on - Louis Armstrong ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHjZQb-kGek)
> 
> (spoiler alert, the actual dancing doesn't start until halfway through, irdk)

Of course, Ben knows something’s wrong.

He’s not sure if he should be flattered or embarrassed by the attention but, regardless, Ben’s here, staring, and he can’t tell if the concern on his face is actually for Callum or for himself.

Not that he would blame him.

Last time they’d had a proper conversation, Stuart had decided it was a punishable offence and taken it out on Ben’s face.

He just hopes Ben knows he had no part in it.

Or did he? By telling Stuart what had happened between them, had he involuntarily, stupidly, invited him to hurt Ben? Wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked things up.

Stuart, himself, had been in here only two minutes ago, seemingly unfazed that Callum was drowning in paperwork about coffins and crematoriums, waving some sheets around.

“It’s vows, bruv, from the internet!” He’d said, throwing them on top of the late Mr Norton’s final wishes. “I been thinking – if you stick bits together from a bunch of ‘em, no one will ever know!”

“Maybe later, yeah?” He’d sighed.

“Yeah, it’s a good idea though, isn’t it? I can print some more out if you want?”

“Not now, I’ve got a family coming in.” It was a lie, but Callum’s pretty good at those.

“Won’t take a second. D’you have a printer in this place?” He’d asked, squinting around the funeral office as if one would materialise in front of him.

“Stuart! Later, _please_?”

They’re still on shaky ground, and he must have remembered that, because he’d looked away sheepishly and nodded, “Right, sorry. Just got a bit carried away.”

He’d laughed, although it was more of a cough, and Callum shook his head as if to say _it’s fine_. After all, it’s not his fault he’s doing so pathetic with his vows. Not his fault he’s doing so pathetic with the whole wedding thing.

 _Just nerves._ He tells himself. _Everyone gets them._

And then Stuart shut the door behind him to leave Callum to throw his pen down and put his head in his hands. Let the image of Chris ripple into his mind for a second. Just one fleeting, guilty, wrong second. Let his handwriting dance behind his eyes.

He’d breathed out, a mixture of calm and dirty settling in his veins.

Why can’t he be like everyone else?

Always something wrong with him.

Halfway to being normal. Halfway to being a freak show.

And then there was incessant knocking _again_ as if sending him away once wasn’t enough.

He swung the door open with a “I said not _now_ , Stu – oh.”

And everything was still and settling again. But less of the dirt this time and more of a weird clicking in his chest. Like his heart remembered what it means to beat. Like it had just shifted into place.

“Not Stuart.” He blinked into the silence. “Obviously.”

It had been some time, a long time, since he’d heard his voice. Since Callum had accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him to ask what was wrong.

And what had he replied with?

_Well, let me see. Phil Mitchell’s my dad, I’m sharing the house with a junky prostitute, and I got a nephew walking round like he’s lost the plot. What’s not to love, eh Callum?_

Callum flushed; Ben wants nothing to do with him. “Sorry. Um, Jay’s out on a home visit. But I can tell him you came.”

“Right, thanks.”

Callum nodded, a hand on the doorknob as Ben stood in the doorway, a step away from leaving the office completely.

But, then again, a step away from Callum.

Callum was almost compelled to pull him in by his ridiculously hot leather jacket if it weren’t for the fact that Ben made a move to go, turning around but throwing him another look over his shoulder.

“Okay, I gotta ask.” And it had startled Callum out of the sinking feeling he’d come to realise as being _without Ben_. “Why’s your face like that?”

“What’s wrong with my face?” Callum splutters.

Of course, Ben knows something’s wrong.

He’s now sure he should feel embarrassed that he’s so easily sussed out but with Ben looking at him like he is right now, it’s hard to feel anything but important.

And his brows may just be knotted because he’s scared Stuart’s going to turn up, but he smiles, soft where his lips curl, and Callum fools himself into thinking that smile is for him.

“You look more depressed than your clients. Someone died?”

He means it well-intentioned, Callum hopes he knows him good enough to work that out (but why should he even _care_ how well he knows Ben Mitchell?) and for some reason, the thought of Chris doesn’t crush him fully.

Still, he doesn’t want to get into it right now.

He shakes his head, “It’s not that.”

“Then?” Ben prompts, looking at him in that way he does, piercing blue eyes like he knows exactly what’s going on in his head.

He reckons it comes naturally to him. Being able to look at him like that. Being able to _see_ him.

And, sometimes, it makes Callum wonder why he never looks away. Because being able to see Callum, see him properly, it’s not a pretty sight.

“I-” But what can he say? He doesn’t want to talk about Chris. Doesn’t want to talk about Whitney. He wants it to be just them which is hysterical because there isn’t even a _them_.

A message bleeps from his phone.

It’s Whitney with a playlist of potential first dance songs.

Because she’s excited about their wedding. Why wouldn’t she be? She’s not the one lying through her teeth.

He sighs, heavily, rubbing a hand over his face as reality cuts through him.

“Is it wedding things? Is that why you don’t wanna tell me?”

He presses his lips together as he looks at Ben, sure that there’s guilt etched across his face.

To his surprise, Ben barks out a laugh. “Bloody hell, Callum, I ain’t gonna have a meltdown, I _have_ known about it for a while.”

“Is everything a joke to you?” He snaps, startling the both of them.

“Cal-” 

“Cos I got half of Walford breathing down me neck over these stupid vows, and I ain’t got a best man, and Whitney wants to learn a waltz for the first dance, and every time I even _think_ about marrying her I feel like shit and then, and then I-”

He chokes on his words, sounding deranged by the end of his sentence.

“Callum?”

“I’m fine.” He breathes out. “Sorry, I-I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Ben asks, eyes boring into his own.

Callum nods.

The clock in the undertaker’s office ticks away slowly. It’s depraved to think time is waiting for them.

When Callum feels like he can speak again (which, if he’s being honest, is a miracle with the way Ben’s looking at him so intensely), he lets out a juddering, “Thanks. Sorry, I’m-”

“You gotta stop apologising.” He smiles.

“But I shouldn’t have,” he flails his hands about, “ _unloaded_ on you like that.”

“Well,” Ben says, shrugging, “I did ask. You gonna show me what sent you into a frenzy, then?”

Callum’s still not completely in his right mind, he doesn’t think he ever is in Ben’s presence, so he barely hesitates in passing over the phone.

Ben suppresses a snort. Hardly. “This is the worst playlist I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s not that bad.” He says, secretly agreeing, although that may be more to do with the _wedding songs xxx_ that Whitney’s titled it.

“Generic. Bland. Boring. No.” Ben states as he flicks through the songs.

“Come on, you’re being harsh.”

“It’s got My Heart Will Go On in it – she _does_ know how that movie ends, right?” He stops for a second, handing the phone back, smirk playing on his face. “Well, I guess your marriage _is_ going to be a bit like the Titanic so-”

“Ben!”

Ben looks up at Callum, who’s not sure his face is looking annoyed enough, because he’s feeling something overwhelmingly like fondness, but Ben holds his hands up anyway.

“Alright, alright.” He smiles, hints of a dimple poking through, as he rocks on the balls of his feet and Callum leans on the desk.

It’s magic, Callum thinks, the way he can change the mood so quickly, his mood, without him even realising.

He wonders if there could be anybody else to get him so well. And is hit with the knowledge he doesn’t want anyone else to.

And then gets rid of that thought because he’s marrying Whitney, and they’re going to be so happy together, and he doesn’t have time to let himself run away to a place he’s not allowed to go.

“So,” Ben asks, with a glint in his eye, “a waltz?”

“It’s romantic.”

“Nah, it’s cheesy.”

“Well, don’t matter, I’ll mess it up anyways.” He means it as a joke, even if he believes it, but Ben sees through him.

“Oh no. If you’re dancing, you’re gonna be good at it. It ain’t that hard.”

“It ain’t?”

“No, I’ll show you, but we’re using my playlist.” Ben asserts, closing the office door.

Something about the action sends adrenaline through Callum. As if it’s just him, Ben, and Mr Norton’s last wishes left in the world.

He’s so caught up in this heady feeling he can only define as _Ben_ that it takes him a while to register the music coming through.

It’s a beautiful melody and then a voice rings out.

_Smile, though your heart is aching_

“Come on, then, Romeo.” Ben says, standing in the middle of the room holding a hand out.

“I – I, uh, don’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here for. Come on.”

He reaches out to tug Callum toward him, and their chests bump into each other before they part again.

_When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by_

“So,” Ben whispers, under the rhythm of the song. “Take my hand – her hand, like this.” And he manoeuvres their hands so Ben’s fits into his, palms slotting in place.

“Now your other hand. Here.” Callum nods shakily as his hand sits in the small of Ben’s back, pressing his fingers into the dimples of his spine that he knows are there.

Ben’s hand hovers above his forearm, fingertips just brushing the fabric of his suit, staring at it like he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch.

Callum lifts his arm so it reaches Ben’s hand, “I ain’t gonna break.”

He responds by curling his fingers around the top of his arm, nodding. His eyelashes flutter and the blues melt into something understated.

Callum’s not sure where he should look during a dance, so he keeps looking at Ben, not that they’re even dancing yet.

He’s just standing, _holding_.

Ben must notice too because he laughs and says, “Now, we move.”

_Light up your face with gladness_

“Right foot forward.” He says as he moves his own foot back. “Then your left, and then a step to the left.”

“I-What?” He fumbles.

“It’s okay, just watch me.” He encourages, in a voice Callum’s not heard before.

So he watches Ben’s feet go back, one by one, and then move to Callum’s left.

“Just follow me.”

Callum nods and tries to follow his lead.

“Right foot forward.” He mutters quietly. “Left forward. To the left.” He moves his left foot to the side, and then his right.

“Now left foot back.” He hears Ben say as he focuses on the movement. “Right foot back. Step to the right.”

Callum carries on, repeating, letting the music guide his steps.

_That’s the time_

Right foot forward.

_you must keep on trying_

Left foot forward.

_Smile,_

Left foot to the side.

_what’s the use of crying_

Right foot to the side.

_You’ll find_

Left foot backward.

_that life_

Right foot backward.

_is still worthwhile_

Right foot to the side.

_if you_

Left foot to the side.

_just smile_

And they’re back to where they started.

He looks up at Ben’s face, grinning, “We did it!”

Ben’s beaming, cheeks red with a flush and shining eyes, and he laughs at Callum’s excitement. “We did. Well done.”

He gives Callum’s hand a squeeze, and they continue the box step.

Forward, left, backward, right.

Ben must see the way he’s concentrating because his hand trails from Callum’s arm to the side of his neck.

“Hey,” he says gently, “Just enjoy the song, yeah?”

Callum nods, and closes his eyes, tilting his head into Ben’s palm.

His feet start to move on their own, shoes hitting the carpet one after the other, heart stuck in a rapid beat.

He listens to the notes rumbling out from Ben’s phone and hitting the office walls, enjoying it, enjoying dancing.

_That’s the time you must keep on trying_

The leather on Ben’s back feels cold, his fingers by Callum’s jaw soothing, and he cups his hand around Ben’s tightly.

Ben grips back tighter.

“It’s a bit of a sad song, ain’t it?” He breathes out.

“I guess.” Ben replies quietly. “It’s about being optimistic.”

“Or faking it.”

“Or faking it,” he agrees, “maybe don’t play this one on the day.”

“Yeah.” Callum sighs. Lets the _this can be ours_ make its way to Ben without saying a word.

_If you just smile_

There’s a medley of violins and then the music ends, and they’re in the quiet for a moment, just the sounds of their breathing.

Then the next song begins.

“One more song, then.” Ben says, moving his hand from Callum’s cheek to his shoulder. “I can teach you something harder.”

His eyes fly open in surprise. “I’ve barely got the hang of this one!”

“Don’t worry, you’re a natural.” Ben grins.

Callum snorts. “I’m pretty sure I ain’t.”

“Just – follow my lead.”

Callum huffs, but it’s all for show and Ben knows it.

“Okay, keep going.” He instructs, as another voice starts to sing.

_Moon river, wider than a mile_

Callum closes his eyes again, as he and Ben carry on dancing, swaying to her voice.

It takes him a second to realise Ben’s singing along.

“ _Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker_.”

It’s barely audible, but it rings in Callum’s ears, sounding beautiful and hurting at the same time.

“Didn’t know you could sing.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You sound amazing.” He opens his eyes when Ben doesn’t reply to see him looking up at him, mouth parted and eyes glossed over.

He’s suddenly hyperaware of their closeness.

His hands are still pressed into his back, and Ben’s is on his shoulder, and they’re just swaying now, box steps forgotten, an inch between them.

Ben blinks slowly, eyelashes casting shadows on his reddened cheeks, almost matching the scarlet of his lips.

Just an inch.

“This is unfair.” At first, he thinks Ben’s said it, before he realises he has. Before he realises it’s true. He straightens his back, moving his head away in the process, “I’m sorry, I’m being unfair. To you.”

Ben shakes his head, smiling sadly. “Let me show you how to spin her.”

He lets go of Callum’s shoulder, and lifts their joined hands above his head.

“What do I do?” He asks, heart stuck in his throat.

“Whatever feels right.”

He turns himself around, stopping when his back is to Callum, bringing their interlinked fingers to his left hip.

Callum steps into his space, his chest hitting Ben’s back, his free hand coming to cover their joined ones.

He feels Ben’s other hand cover his.

_Waiting round the bend, my huckleberry friend_

“And you just step,” Ben breathes out, Callum feeling every word, “from side to side.”

So, Callum steps from side to side, in time to the music, in time with Ben.

He has half a mind to let his lips land on the curve between Ben’s neck and shoulder, but he knows he shouldn’t. For Ben’s sake, if not his own, but there’s something magnetic about the man he’s dancing with that he can’t yet put his finger on.

Ben turns his head at that moment, and he mustn’t expect them to be so close because he lets out a squeak when their noses brush.

He laughs, “What you staring at?”

“You.” He answers, honestly, celebrates when Ben visibly gulps and lets his eyes fall to Callum’s lips.

Then he stops celebrating because _what is wrong with him?_

Ben’s hand uncovers Callum’s, and he spins out again, Callum watching as he steps back towards him, song ending.

His hand rests on Callum’s shoulder, swaying gently as Callum lets his hand find Ben’s back.

“Forward, left, backward, right.” Ben prompts, closing his eyes as Callum matches the rhythm of the next song.

He doesn’t comment on the new one starting, doesn’t want to remind Ben of the bubble they’ve created for themselves, doesn’t want to pop it.

Forward, left, backward, right

_Give me a kiss to build a dream on_

Callum carries on holding Ben through the steps, and when Ben moves forwards and Callum moves backwards, there’s less space between them than before.

Ben’s arm winds around Callum so that he’s holding him too.

His hand clutches on to Callum’s shoulder, arm around him in a half hug, chests touching.

Tentatively, Ben rests his head by Callum’s heart, drags their clasped hands towards him, placing a featherlight kiss on Callum’s fist.

Callum hopes he can’t hear how his heart rattles in his ribs, but Ben’s grip on his right hand tightens so he guesses he can hear everything.

He reckons it’s probably a metaphor for something.

“You ever had one of those?” Ben asks quietly, as Callum looks down, involuntarily smelling the scent of his hair.

“Hmm?”

“You know – a kiss to build a dream on.”

There’s silence for a while.

_Give me a kiss before you leave me_

“You know I have.” Callum whispers.

He feels the vibrations of Ben humming by his chest. “Just making sure.”

“Making sure of what?”

“That this ain’t just in my head.”

It makes Callum stop moving, and Ben looks up at him with furrowed brows.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“I dunno why I said that, just leave it.”

“No, Ben, I-” He breathes out. “You gotta understand, this ain’t - this ain’t make sense to me. But _you_ do. And I know this ain’t right but you’re not _making it up_ , yeah?”

Ben smiles that hollow smile again. “Ain’t it right?”

Callum blows out a breath. “I dunno. I’m not, I _can’t_ think about that.”

“It’s okay, you’ll get there.” Ben says, kindly, like he believes it. It almost makes Callum believe it too.

_I’ll be with you_

Then, Ben chuckles into the air and tugs on Callum’s hand. “Let’s make the box step harder.”

“Do you have to make everything harder?”

“Can’t help it.” Ben winks, and Callum sighs for walking into that one. “Okay, instead of going to the side turn at an angle as you step, so you - no look, so we’re at a diagonal.”

Callum tries to follow.

“No, so don’t go to your left, turn a bit.”

“Ben, I can’t.”

“I’ll do it slowly, look!”

_Give me your lips for just a moment_

Ben steps away, Callum feeling the loss instantly, and does the steps.

Callum looks down at his feet and watches as Ben seamlessly moves from facing forward to facing a different wall of the office and again.

He doesn’t think Ben would take well to Callum likening him to elegance, so he keeps it to himself, mesmerised by the way he moves.

“Well? You gonna keep ogling me or actually learn it?”

Callum shakes his head with a laugh and holds his hand out for Ben to take it, which he does immediately.

Then, Ben mutters under his breath, “Ready?”

Callum nods, swallowing.

They step again, Callum turning with Ben, and he’s pretty sure he’s learnt it.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry!”

“It’s okay.”

“Sorry, I thought I’d learnt it.”

“It’s fine - ow!”

“Sorry!”

“Did _both_ of your feet step on mine?”

“You’re the one that made it hard.”

“Like I said, I literally can’t help it - ow, okay, you did that one on purpose!”

“I would _never_.”

The sounds of their laughs mix into the trumpets of the song, and Callum only laughs harder when Ben scats along to the music.

He actually does get it, eventually, turning as Ben does so his feet are spared.

At a particular trumpet solo, Callum stops to spin Ben out and back in again.

“Oh, look at that, freestyle.” Ben jokes, his hand coming around to cup the back of his neck.

“Did I do it right?”

“Perfectly.”

Callum smiles down, shy for some reason.

He feels Ben’s breath brush his cheek, and he closes his eyes to rest his forehead against Ben’s.

They’ve fallen into swaying again, not really dancing, and Ben brings both of his arms to wind around Callum’s neck.

Callum, in turn, links his hands behind Ben’s back.

Ben’s still singing under his breath, and Callum can almost feel how his lips move.

 _God,_ they’re so close.

He hopes Ben’s also using all his self restraint to hold himself back, because this has Callum so desperate he barely recognises himself.

Then again, he hopes Ben doesn’t have as much self restraint, so he can make the first move and let Callum out of his misery.

_When I’m alone with my fancies, I’ll be with you_

“Ben,” Callum whispers, “I-”

Suddenly, they hear the unmistakable sound of the funeral parlour door opening, a voice filtering in.

Callum’s eyes startle open and he stumbles backwards, watching Ben do the same, although he seems more resigned than frightened.

“The music, Ben!” He hisses, heartbeat rapid.

He feels his throat close up as Jay opens the office door.

“You alright? Just got back from the Cordons, they’ve decided to go for a traditional funeral.” He eyes Callum, before letting his gaze fall to the desk behind him, catching sight of the papers. “These your vows? You done with em?”

“Nearly.” He replies in a small voice, _lies_ , wiping clammy hands on his trousers.

“So what you doing here?” Jay asks Ben, who’s leaning against the filing cabinet now.

“What dy’a think? Giving Cal dance lessons? Came here to find you, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t even glance at Callum as he says it, and he feels like they’re back to how they were before, ignoring each other, his skin burning where Ben’s touch was.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s about the car lot.”

“Well, not here,” Jay huffs, and Callum feels like he’s missing something.

Ben just gestures towards the door, “Okay fine, but _now_ , it’s urgent.”

Jay mutters something and walks out the office door, Ben a few footsteps behind him.

Just as Ben’s about to leave, Callum finds his voice again.

“Wait, Ben, listen-“ Ben stops, although he’s not facing him, instead looking out the door. “I just- I never meant to hurt you. I never mean to.”

Ben looks back at that, eyes glistening. “Been hurt a bit more than my fair share, but _you_ , Callum,” he sighs, “you do it best. Don’t even make it feel like hurting.”

And then he leaves Callum alone in his office, with scraps of vows for Whitney, and a painful crack in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sure what this is, just that i had to get it out of my system, thanks for reading if you did, though, means a lot :) stay safe, loves x


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